Fully English

CHAPTER 30

We end up on the last train back to West Lincoln that very night, my phone ringing off the hook all the while with continuous calls from Frieda but I don't answer.

How can I when there is so much going on in my head?

A part of me wished I hadn't made the trek to Bollington. Coming here revealed more than I was ready for: I hadn't mentally prepared for the wealth of information that was coming my way. It felt like an assault and I had nobody to report it to except Reece. He was involved too though – the attack I mean. The many questions he pelted at me after our meeting with my uncle felt like an interrogation and I simply didn't have the answers for him. It was like I was being questioned for a crime I neither committed nor witnessed.

"What are we going to do?" Reece asks me.

The almost empty train is departing from Bollington and I feel the strain leave me as we race down the tracks. I am trying my utmost to leave the memory of today behind me, the same way the town is being left in exhaust behind us. I already have too much on my mind.

"There's no 'we' in this, only 'I'," I enlighten him. "And I'm not going to do anything."

"What do you mean?"

"What is there to do?" I rebut.

"Find out why your mum was screaming."

"And then what?" I turn to him aggressively.

I could see the cloud of interest raining through his demeanour – his amateur detective skills were tingling. He wanted to know more. A toe in the water was not enough, he wanted to drown in the knowledge of my life – be submerged into it. I wasn't sure if he was ready to dive in the deep end just yet.

"Then we solve this mystery," he answers shakily.

For a moment I consider that maybe he isn't just curious but concerned for my welfare.

"What do you suggest we do?"

"You have to talk to your mum."

My heart sinks.

Though he says it with care, it still splinters to hear.

"And George."

"I'll sort him out," he says calmly.

A look of darkness dawns in his eyes and I know that no matter how much I argue, his mind is set. This mission I am embarking on will be in conjunction with him whether I like it or not. I suddenly regret bringing him along with me. It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

"Can we change the subject?" I hurriedly ask.

The pit in my stomach was only deepening further as this conversation progressed and I feared I would upchuck right here on this train if we continued to talk about this topic.

"Yes we can," Reece says resolutely. "We'll sort this out later, right now you need to unwind."

For the bulk of the journey we speak trivially before being interrupted by my phone flashing with a call: we both look towards it and see an incoming Facetime.

"It's Frieda."

"Answer it," Reece moves out of shot and I quickly accept it.

As soon as I answer, Frieda's knackered face materialises: hollow eyes, blanched skin and limp hair make up the screen yet she seems more alive than ever: engaged and weirdly exuberant like the weight of the universe has been lifted from her shoulders.